Thoughts from the threshold

 I don't exactly know what to write about. This has become a method for self-regulation and venting, of talking with myself and understand who I am through a paused, mythical and somewhat comical exercise of introspection.

 I've been thinking about many things these days; how did I accepted a fate that was contrary to what I wanted, how the old friends banished while I feel stagnant and stuck, how the circumstances forced me to be reckless regarding my job when I never wanted to be a public face to advertise or worry about and would have like to spend 2-3 years on a law firm to get the basics and not suffer this much, on how the Gyro persona was born, because, prior to Gyro, I was someone else.

I was 18, depressed as my girlfriend at that time cheated on my and I didn't pass the sax test to enter where I wanted to. I was devastated; I had to move to a city with no acquaintances nor close people to study a degree I hated an not have the sax degree teacher I wanted but rather a disastrous one. Then I found out about Steel Ball Run and this flamboyant character called Gyro, and eventually, as hardships came, I adopted his name. It sounded good, it was short, it was a way to conceal myself on the internet.

I've met many people in the almost 8 years that came after that moment, and many know me solely by that name. I've even met people in person who call me by that name. It has become a part of me. One with it's own meaning.

Gyro has served it's purpose; it gave me a rest of the everyday life and its problems, it was like being someone else, someone who is not an inexperienced lawyer learning as he goes, not at a PhD, not a frustrated musician, not a crippled persona. Or rather he is, he is the embodiment of all that. Either way, it feels distant. It feels good.

If I am reborn from the Hades of illness, if God hears my prayer and the Holy Souls accept my bargain and fortune is on my side, then Gyro will have to die, in order for Me to resurrect, a tired, older and somewhat jaded Me, but Me nonetheless.

Spring  might rise again.

Two days left.